England In Trouble? Call 1-800-ARSENAL4THEO

So, I was 100% sure I would not be blogging about the Euros. I’m only interested in blogging about things Arsenal.

Also, my relationship with the English National Team holds great ambivalence for me. Firstly, they’re not MY team. Secondly, 700 years of oppression should leave some kind of residue. Thirdly, I spend all season practicing my hatred of Terry, Cole, Gerard, Parker, Milner etc. and now I’m supposed to cheer them on.

Fourthly, my wife is French. Like, really French. Like really, really French. She chokes up when they play the Marseillaise, for God’s sake. So, when she sees a flicker of support from me towards her and supposedly my historical enemy, she is merciless in her reaction.

However, I still kinda end up rooting for them. I’m not really sure why. But I do. Unless the English commentators get a little bit too Rule Britannia at which point it can be too much to bear. These days though, through my Arsenal training, I have learned to tune out the commentators and panelists. They’re almost all wankers who have it in for my boys.

So today I set the recorder to record the English game. I have been sent to do the shopping at “Wholefoods Market,” which is a pretty cool supermarket selling organic shit.

When I get to the supermarket, I want to find out what all my Twitter mates are saying in Twitterland, so I head over to the coffee area to get on their wifi, and low and behold, what’s on the TV but the England-Sweden game. And low and behold, what do they serve at the coffee shop? Beer.

Fuck the shopping. And what a glorious 90 minutes of not shopping it was.

By my reckoning, the England National Team is basically a life support system for Theo and The Ox. The only purpose of this team is to provide opportunities for Arsenal fans to watch their players in Europe. I watch England but I daydream of Arsenal.

England is a brain-dead coma patient from kept alive at the Euros so that we can harvest their remaining vital organs – Theo and The Ox

You saw that game today. You felt what I felt. Like me you were rooting for England to go a goal down early in the 2nd half so that toothless England would be forced despite every fibre of their being to bring Theo on. UNLEASH THEO X.

1-800-Arsenal4Theo

I’m sure many called this game before it started. I know I did. We’d fall behind. Then around 60 to 70 minutes, England would call 1-800-Arsenal4Theo

Really? Why? What’s going on? How’s that James Plodner working out for you?

Errr. Good, thanks.

Really? Cos I’ve got it on the telly and you appear to be 2-1 down while Plodner bores everyone to death.

Milner has a great work rate, though, to be fair.

To be fair, his workrate IS impressive. Nobody works harder to produce no end product. Ba boom!!

Very funny. Anyway, as you are aware we need Theo immediately!

Are you sure you wouldn’t like to wait till there’s just a couple of minutes to go like last game.

No we need him now. Straight away. Will you or will you not let us have Theo?

Are you sure you wouldn’t like The Ox?

No, maybe later. But right now we need Theo to do that shit he does for Arsenal week in and week out. You know, all that assisting and scoring.

Soooooo, say we DO lend you Theo, do you promise you’ll pass him the ball this time.

Yeeeessss, for the love of God, just give me Theo.

Well, OK then. But remember your promise. Pass him the ball, and it’ll all be OK.

I’m sure, some days you are particularly proud of your tweeting. Today was 1 of my days. Actually check out some of my (and others) tweets of the day. Start at the bottom and work upwards of course. They run from before to during to after the game. Hopefully the tweets speak for themselves.

I strongly suspect your tweeting and mine were very parallel. I saw a lot of similar sentiments expressed on Twitter while I tweeted.

UNLEASH THEO X.

Of course I am 100% confident that Theo will be thanked by being put back on the bench for the next must-not-lose game, until, Plodner in place, England falls a goal down again with X minutes to go (where X is a number too small to give a man a fighting chance.)